


a summer day

by prncesselene



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Gen, just soft family feelings :), the anthony bridgerton DILF agenda continues, with a little bit of character introspection because its anthony and i cant help myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prncesselene/pseuds/prncesselene
Summary: In truth, he was enjoying the country and the time spent with his family. Atypical as it may have been, he would always be grateful for the special bond they all shared with each other. Things were certainly never dull when they were all together.Case in point: the wailing coming from a six-year old Hyacinth Bridgerton.Or: Anthony being a dad to a younger Hyacinth, for the feels
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton & Hyacinth Bridgerton
Comments: 9
Kudos: 68





	a summer day

Anthony first heard a wail.

It was a shrill, tinny sound — not one he’d never heard before, but certainly the kind that raised alarm in the middle of a bright, sunny day in the country. It was the sort of day that made painters rush out with their canvases and smattered the hands of poets with ink. It was _such_ a beautiful day, in fact, that most of his siblings had all filtered out to enjoy it. He had chosen to sit back and watch them as they enjoyed the sun.

At twenty five, Anthony had settled into as peaceful an existence as was possible for a man like him — as head of the family, its finances, and everyone’s general wellbeing, it wasn’t necessarily _easy_ , but he was managing. Colin was set to start university soon, Benedict had recently finished, and Daphne wasn’t set to debut until the following season. The lull in activity gave Anthony enough momentary peace that it finally felt as though he could take one long, deep breath.

In truth, he was enjoying the country and the time spent with his family. Atypical as it may have been, he would always be grateful for the special bond they all shared with each other. Things were certainly never dull when they were all together.

Case in point: the wailing coming from a six-year old Hyacinth Bridgerton.

Anthony sat up the moment he heard it, his eyes narrowing to locate the source of the sound. Gregory was only eight, and just as incorrigible as the rest of the boys had been at his age. Him and Hyacinth got on just as often as they fought — which meant, at any given moment, either of them might have been the one crying.

Violet let out a resigned sigh, looking up at the scenery ahead of them. “Anthony, would you…?”

Anthony grimaced, rising from his seat and stalking across the field. Hyacinth’s sobs had only grown louder in the few moments it took for him to walk over, Gregory’s eyes wide and filled with fear as he approached.

“I— I promise I didn’t—”

“He PUSHED me!” Hyacinth shouted through her tears as she held onto her knee, her face red and splotchy with the effort. “He MEANT to!”

“I didn’t!”

“He _DID!”_

“Both of you, settle. Down. _Now,_ ” Anthony said, putting on his most authoritative voice. This still came awkwardly to him — the discipline and strong words, especially when they were both so young. But it was just another part of the role he’d been given, the one he’d never quite asked for but had to bear all the same. He leaned down to meet her eyes. “Are you hurt, Hyacinth?”

She was still sobbing loudly — a sound that tugged viciously at his heart, even if his youngest sister _did_ have a flair for the dramatic — as she opened up her palms to reveal a particularly bloody knee.

Anthony winced, hissing as he inspected it closely. Gregory began to cry at the sight of it. “I promise I didn’t mean to… I didn’t see the rocks, and—”

The wound was not disastrous, but bad enough that Anthony could confirm Hyacinth’s tears were not, in fact, exaggerated. Anthony sighed. Discipline would have to come later. “Go to mother, Gregory,” he said. “ _Now_. I will deal with you later.”

Gregory did as told, walking back towards their mother with his head hung low as Anthony picked Hyacinth up. Her arms came around his neck while her legs swung around his chest. She wasn’t very tiny anymore, all long arms and pointy elbows — she was going to be tall, he could already tell — but he was able to lift her with ease. As they walked, her arms tightened around him as she continued to cry into his shoulder.

“Shhh,” he tried to console her, the walk from the field to the nursery inside feeling longer than it had ever been before. “You’re okay. It’ll be alright.”

Once they were inside, Anthony didn’t bother to locate the nursemaid — Hyacinth was clearly in distress, and that seemed like a waste of time when he was perfectly able. He sat her down on one of the dressers and grabbed a washcloth.

“Does it hurt badly?” he asked, his voice low as he tried to soothe her. This was a trick he’d learned with Eloise, who’d always gotten into more trouble than it seemed a young girl should have been able to. If he spoke softly enough, nearly in a whisper, it was often enough to get them to relax.

Hyacinth sniffed, using her hands to wipe at her face. She had stopped crying, but her cheeks — and Anthony’s shoulder — remained damp. “Mmmmhmm.”

Anthony dabbed at her knee with the washcloth, clearing away most of the blood while Hyacinth slowly caught her breath. The scrape was still fairly bad, but it would likely heal by the following day.

“Here we go,” Anthony said, taking the ointment from the nursery cabinet and dabbing it around the skin of Hyacinth’s knee. Once that was done, he took the bandage and wrapped it twice — enough to cover it fully without limiting her mobility. “Does that feel better?”

Hyacinth nodded, her frown deepening. “I hate Gregory. He’s mean and rude and I _hate_ him.”

Anthony smiled, reaching up to wipe away some of the last errant tears on her cheeks. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I _do._ ”

“No,” Anthony stood up, putting his hands on his waist. “You don’t. He made a mistake — for which he will apologize to you and see consequences — and then you will go back to loving each other and being the best of siblings. That is the way things are, and the way they will always be. That’s what _family_ is. Alright?”

Hyacinth rolled her eyes, unconvinced, and Anthony was immediately provided with a glimpse into what the future held in store for him when it came to the youngest Bridgerton. He would have to _really_ enjoy the relative calm while he had it.

He whisked her off of the table unexpectedly, careful not to hurt her knee, eliciting a girlish squeal. “Did you just roll your eyes at me? That is _quite_ undignified, Miss Hyacinth. Even for a young lady of six.”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Oh, I believe you did,” he tsked, smiling. Reaching under her chin, Anthony tickled her until she was giggling, her hands reaching out in a futile attempt to stop him between fits of laughter. “Aaaah! — Anthony — please!”

Anthony found himself laughing along as Hyacinth tried to retaliate, sticking her hands under his arms and neck. Despite her mighty attempts, the girl was still only six, and thus Anthony found himself the indisputable winner of the battle as their laughter slowly settled into small giggles, stopping only once it was clear that any unhappiness was well and truly behind her.

Once she’d caught her breath, Hyacinth leaned into Anthony, her head tucked into his shoulder the way she’d often done as a baby. Emotion clogged in Anthony’s throat at _that_ realization — he could hardly believe she was already six. He supposed he would always see her as the cooing infant she’d once been. Her arrival had been the first moment of happiness Anthony had felt after losing his father, overshadowed only by the realization that she would never know him. _That,_ in turn, inspired a fervent desire to try and fill the gap, however clumsily.

“Are you feeling better now?” he murmured, smiling when she nodded and tightened her grip on him again, her eyes slowly closing. All the excitement seemed to have sapped her of her energy.

Anthony took a quick turn about the room, drifting towards the window and watching his family outside as he carried her. As difficult as it was — dealing with his siblings, worrying relentlessly over their wellbeing, lending an ear for listening or a shoulder for crying whenever they needed it — it was satisfying, too. Especially in moments like this.

He would have to find her nursemaid now, and then have a few choice words with Gregory about being careful with his younger sister, and then _after_ that he would likely have to go and deal with some other issue that arose, whether it was with his mother, or his sisters, or his brothers.

It seemed to never end, the laundry list of problems with which he was presented — everyone looked to _him_ for guidance, and Anthony didn’t have anywhere else to look to anymore. He would have to find the answers within himself, the way he’d been doing for seven years now.

He would never be their father — that much went without saying — but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to fill the hole he’d left behind for them.

When he turned back towards Hyacinth, she was asleep, her breaths even. Anthony smiled to himself, grateful to see her calm and peaceful for once, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before lowering her onto the bed and closing the curtains.

He could only hope he was doing a good enough job of it all.


End file.
